Damned and Divine
by Selina Kyle 23
Summary: Sweeney Todd's life is dramatically altered one night. What will Mrs. Lovett do when she'll find out that her beloved barber will not be able to see the sunlight ever again? Rating may change.
1. Minor Cuts

Damned and Divine

_"Frozen in time yearning forbidden wishes  
Damned and divine  
Scars of my broken kisses  
What will follow if tomorrow's blind?  
My eternal night  
Every single dawn I die again"_

1. Minor Cuts

Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street, was in awe. The Honorable Judge Turpin had finally come for a very close shave. The barber welcomed him with a little bow and beckoned him to sit down in the barber chair. Of course, Sweeney's face was calm as ever and didn't betray any emotion, but deep inside he was dancing with happiness. But he didn't expect what was to come. He never thought for even one second that his road to vengeance would be interrupted. He didn't hurry to slit the Judge's throat. The barber wanted to enjoy every moment before the actual kill. And of course, offer him the _closest _shave he'd ever know.

As Sweeney was sharpening his razors, Turpin started singing something about "pretty women". The barber joined him, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible. The Judge would not expect what was going to hit him.

So you can imagine Sweeney's fury and frustration when, just as he was about to stick the silver blade into the judge's flesh, the door flung open. On the threshold stood none other than Beadle Bamford, who said in a hurried tone:

"Pardon my intrusion, my lord. I came to remind you the meeting you need to attend will begin in exactly fifteen minutes…"

Turpin looked at him, considering what he had just said.

"You are more than right, Beadle. Being late does not make a good impression."

The judge quickly sat up and removed the cloth from his throat. Studying his reflection in the mirror, he said in an admiring tone:

"You truly are one of the best barbers in London, Mr. Todd, if not the best…I can assure you that you will have me as a client again soon. Until then…"

Turpin threw a little bag on the counter. As it fell, the barber heard the clinking of the many coins inside.

"Good day, Mr. Todd."

And with a tinkle of the doorbell, the judge and his evil lackey were gone.

Sweeney Todd was numb. He kept his eyes on the door, as if he expected the judge to come back and receive his death. And the barber stood there motionless for seconds, minutes, hours…

* * *

At the end of a boring day like any other, Toby lay asleep on the couch, the bottle of gin in his hand. The woman the boy considered to be his adoptive mother smiled when she saw him. She carefully extracted the bottle from his hand, kissed him on his cheek, and then headed for her bedroom.

Mrs. Nellie Lovett had finished her job on that day, serving her famous pies and cleaning the tables and the dishes afterward. And of course, she had brought Mr. Todd's dinner. Her tenant had seemed even more distant this day than usual. He didn't even spare her a glance, let alone speak to her. Although Mrs. Lovett knew the reason, she still felt heart-broken. If the judge wouldn't have walked out of the shop alive, maybe Sweeney would have finally started to notice her. Damn that judge…

The baker sighed and exchanged her usual dress with her nightgown. She took out the pins that were keeping her hair up and blew the candle out, letting darkness flood her room. She slipped under the covers of her bed and quickly fell asleep. Thinking of the barber upstairs, of course.

* * *

A few hours later, Nellie was awakened from her sweet dreams by banging, thudding and crashing sounds from above. The baker groaned and covered her ears with a pillow, but to no avail. What was the damned barber up to?

Sighing, she threw the pillow and lit a candle. The clock showed quarter past two in the morning. The thuds never ceased, so Nellie got out of bed, wrapped a dressing gown around her thin frame and started towards the stairs which led to the barbershop. She passed through the parlor, where Toby was sleeping like a log, and reached the stairs. The baker hesitated for a moment. She didn't know what was on his mind.

However, Nellie took heart and stared to ascend the stairs. Once all the way up, she did not bother to knock. The second she entered the shop, a vase shattered against the wall beside her. The baker yelped.

"Mr. T! What's gotten into ya?" she said in a high-pitched voice.

The barber didn't answer, but continued to throw and smash objects through the room. Oh, she knew what was wrong with him. Nellie's eyes scanned the place. It was a complete mess. Only two objects had escaped unharmed: the chair and the pictures of the barber's former family.

"Mr. T! Stop this madness _this _instant!"

Sweeney did what he did best: he ignored her. The baker was really scared now. She hadn't seen him this angry before. Taking a deep breath, Nellie started towards the barber, at the same time trying to dodge the flying objects. She noticed with surprise that even the razors, his _friends_, were lying on the floor. The contents of the drawers were also thrown all over the place, the mirror (which had been cracked before) now lay in thousands of pieces on the floor, and the barbering tools were also broken. The bed sheet was torn up and feathers from the pillow were floating in the air. The night's cold air entered the room through a broken window pane.

It seemed that Sweeney's fury and desperation were showing up now. Stepping carefully over the shattered objects, Nellie finally reached the barber.

"Mr. T, please stop! It ain't no good in what you're doin'!"

Sweeney didn't even flinch. Seeing as she couldn't get him to react no matter what she said, the baker took the last two steps that were distancing her from him and tried to get a hold of his arms. He wrenched himself from her grasp, but she did not let go. Instead she did the more risky, but also probably the more effective move. She wrapped her arms around him.

Sweeney stopped immediately, as if trying to register what was happening. He stood frozen, but the baker could feel him tremble with fury in her arms. And this scared her more than anything. But she still didn't let go. She could feel her own frantic heart beating even faster than his. And then she realized that she was hugging Sweeney. She was actually hugging him. But Nellie was too scared to enjoy it.

After a few moments which seemed like hours, with a sudden move, Sweeney wrenched her off him and started vandalizing the room again. Nellie tripped and almost fell in the pieces of glass from the broken mirror, but she quickly regained her balance and started again towards the barber. This was too much. The barber was getting on her nerves.

"Mr. Todd, considerin' that I am your landlady and this is _my_ house, I order you to stop immediately, or I will call the police and throw you out in the streets!"

She didn't even register that what she said was contradictory; she couldn't both call the police and throw him in the streets, but of course she never intended to do either in the first place. She wasn't scared anymore; all her fear had transformed into anger.

But when she got near him, _SWISH_!

With a swift movement of the barber's right arm, the razor cut through the delicate skin of the baker's left cheek. Time seemed to have stopped. Sweeney had finally stopped from his rampage and was looking at her, breathing hard.

Nellie drew one hand to her cheek, wondering why she hadn't seen that one coming. She looked at the blood on her fingers and pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. Todd. It won't happen again. Goodnight."

And with that she spun on her heels and left, slamming the door after her. Sweeney stood staring at the closed door, his lips parted in astonishment.

Nellie quickly descended the stairs, lifting the fold of her skirts and trying to control her tears, at least until she reached the bathroom. She entered the pie shop and winced: one salty tear had got into the cut on her cheek. The baker passed through the parlor, where Toby was still sleeping soundly. And thank God for that, otherwise the young boy would have gotten very suspicious.

As soon as she got to the bathroom, she started washing her face. She took a bottle of alcohol and some cotton wool from the little cabinet mounted on the wall. The cut stung terribly, but it had to be cleaned.

"I'm sorry. About this…"

She froze, her eyes on the mirror in front of her. Sweeney was behind her, on the door threshold, looking at her with his onyx eyes. The baker sighed and continued cleaning her wound.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it…"

He looked at her curiously, and then asked:

"Does it need stitches?"

"I certainly hope not. It doesn't seem that deep to me…"

The bastard. Why was she even talking to him? Well, at least she hoped she'd made him feel bad for what he'd done. The barber said nothing more, just watching her mend the wound. After she finished, Nellie turned around and headed to the door, but found it blocked by Sweeney. She looked into his eyes again, but could see no remorse, no satisfaction in them, no happiness nor sadness. She couldn't see anything. His eyes were as unreadable as they always were. The barber stepped away and let her pass. The baker walked through the parlor and went straight for her bedroom. But just when she was about to open the door,

"Um…Mrs. Lovett?"

Nellie closed her eyes, without turning to face him.

"Will you allow me to sleep here tonight?" the barber said with an uneasy tone. "I've…there's a broken window in my shop and it will get pretty cold soon…"

"Do as you please, Mr. Todd…"

And with that, the baker vanished in her room. Sweeney took a seat in one of the armchairs, the one which was furthest from the sleeping boy on the couch. For the first time since his return, the barber felt sorry for his landlady. He'd seen the fear and the hurt in her eyes. He shouldn't have reacted that way. But he'd been so full of rage because of the judge, he hadn't been thinking rationally.

Nellie couldn't get to sleep anymore. She was angry, not angry at the barber himself, but at her feelings towards him. Feelings that the rational part of her brain couldn't control.

But neither of them expected was going to happen further on.

* * *

_A/N: So I've been wanting to do this for a very long time and now I finally got to write it. I hope you all like it! Reviews are more than welcome :D_


	2. Goodbyes

2. Goodbyes

Rays of light filled the room, piercing the thin curtains, and lingered on the sleeping form of Todd's landlady. Her eyes slowly flickered open and she turned on the other side of the bed, trying to avoid the bright light. What had wakened her up were the sounds from upstairs. Not the banging and crashing from last night, but it sounded just like someone was dragging crushed materials on the wooden floor. Like someone was repairing and cleaning. Just the sound of the work being done.

Nellie yawned and stretched her body. This was going to be one long day. Her eyes searched the room and stopped on the clock. Half past seven. Time to wake up. Sighing, the baker threw the covers aside and got out of bed. She changed into her usual dress and boots, adding her lace gloves. After she attempted to tame her unruly hair and made sure she looked presentable, Nellie exited her room and went into the parlor. And there was her sweet little Toby, still sleeping so soundly that she didn't have the heart to wake him up. Therefore, she prepared breakfast in silence, listening to the rumpus from upstairs.

After she finished, the baker left her and Toby's plates on the table and rushed upstairs with Sweeney's breakfast on a tray. When she got to the barber's lair, Nellie noticed with surprise that the door was wide open. Inside, all the reminders of yesterday's destruction were gone. The razors were back in their case, the bed was made and there was no sign of the pieces of glass or the pillow feather. A brand new mirror stood in its entire splendor in a corner of the barbershop. Lucy's framed photo was intact, on the counter.

With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, the barber was trying to replace the broken window with a new one. Still amazed by what she was seeing, Nellie carefully stepped inside and placed the tray on the counter.

"Mornin', Mista' T! Brought you some breakfast, dear…"

"Thank you, Mrs. Lovett."

Nellie's eyes widened in surprise. Although the barber hadn't looked at her even once, the fact that he actually thanked her was something new. Maybe he did feel remorse after the previous night after all.

The baker turned to leave, when Sweeney's voice stopped her.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

She turned around, only to see that the barber was still not facing her.

"Yes, Mr. T?"

"I'm leaving." He said in a low voice.

The baker suddenly felt a lump in her throat. She looked at him incredulously, trying to register what he had just said. But before she could think of why he could possibly leave her, the barber continued:

"The judge has sent me a letter. He's going on a trip to Exeter, and he wants to take his personal barber with him. But his personal barber is not the best barber in London. So he requested me."

There. There was the reason of his unusual friendly behavior. Not because hurting her had made him see things more clearly about her, but because he finally had a chance to kill his enemy. Sweeney turned around and faced Nellie, revealing a mischievous smile.

"I won't be given any better chance to end his life."

"You're right…" she said slowly, looking at the floor and trying to mask her emotions. "When are you leavin'?"

"Tonight."

"For how long?"

Her voice was shaking a little, but Sweeney was too excited to notice that.

"The trip is set for a week."

She nodded, still deep in her thoughts. She could handle seven days without him…maybe…probably. Oh God, she could have slapped herself. Of course she could live through a week without him! Unless…A dark thought clouded her mind.

Sweeney had resumed fixing the window. Feeling again the lump in her throat, the baker approached him and asked:

"You're going to come back, right? After you're done killing the judge?"

The barber's back stiffened.

"I don't know."

Nellie's lower lip trembled. He still hadn't turned around.

"But if not here, where could you go, Mr. T?"

"Don't know, Mrs. Lovett…I'll see to it when it happens…" he said after a long pause.

Nellie could tell that she was bothering him. Seeing that she won't get anything more from him, the baker spun on her heels and went downstairs. She somehow managed to calm down and swallow her tears when she entered the pie shop, where Toby was wolfing down his breakfast.

"Mum! I'm so sorry I didn't wait for you, but I was starvin'!"

"'Tis alright, dear…don't worry about me…"

She sat down at the same table and started to eat her own breakfast.

"Toby…Mr. Todd's leavin'…"

"Really?" the boy interrupted her, brightening up.

Nellie noticed his sudden change of face. She shook her head.

"Just for a week, lad, don't get yourself excited…"

Toby became gloomy again.

"Where's he goin'?"

"He's going' with Judge Turpin. He's gonna be his personal barber." The baker said proudly.

She ruffled his hair and sat up, picking up the empty plates. Toby could have danced with happiness. No Mr. Todd for a week!

"Come on, boy! Let's get to work!"

* * *

After hours of baking pies, serving customers and ascending and descending the stairs to the bake house, Nellie finally flipped the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED". The shop was getting more famous day by day thanks to the barber.

The repairing sounds from the barbershop have died in the meantime. Glad that all the work had been finished, the baker eased herself in the armchair and opened her favorite book.

She hadn't managed to finish reading one page, when she heard hurried footsteps approaching her and a very excited Toby appeared in the parlor.

"Mum! Can I go get some sweets?"

"Of course, dear. But just sweets and nothin' more. Understand?"

Nellie picked up her purse and took out three shiny pennies.

"Yes, mum! Thank you!"

And he grabbed the coins and he was gone, leaving behind a frowning baker.

* * *

It must have been around eight o'clock when the doorbell tinkled. Nellie raised her eyes from the book she was reading to see the barber entering the room through the door that led to the stairs. He looked just like the day he arrived at her shop, with his leather jacket and the black old bag hanging over his shoulder.

"It is time?" the baker asked him softly.

Sweeney just nodded and started towards the front door with long strides. Nellie quickly put the book aside and jumped from her seat. She wasn't going to let him leave without a proper goodbye. The baker grabbed a little bag off a counter in her way, and then stepped between Sweeney and the door just as he was about to touch the doorknob, and held out the bag. The barber took it reluctantly, but she gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry, Mr. T, it's not me pies...Just some ordinary food…"

He nodded and put the smaller bag inside the larger one.

"Thank you."

Then he circled her, opened the door and stepped outside. Nellie turned around after him.

"Um…Mista' T?"

Now he was outside and she was inside, with the door threshold between them.

"Why are you leavin' at such a late hour?"

Sweeney looked above him at the starry sky, as if he had just noticed that it was dark.

"The judge's privacy…" he answered slowly. He needed to leave as soon as possible; otherwise he would be late…what if they left without him? And the damn woman was wasting his precious time.

"Mr. T…can I ask you something?"

His eyes fixed on hers.

"Come back. I mean afterward. At least just for a few minutes…Just so I can see you, know if you're alright…"

His eyes quickly settled on the pavement. He'll have to think about this thoroughly. He wouldn't have thought that she cared so much about his health or safety.

"Please?"

"Alright." He muttered.

"Thank you, Mr. T!" she said in her usual cheery tone, smiling happily. He could see the happiness shining in her eyes, and that made him frown.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Lovett."

She didn't say a word, just stood there and let her eyes memorize every feature of his face. There were three possibilities in her future. He comes back to see her after he kills the judge (which was improbable), he kills the judge and escapes somewhere far away, or he's caught by the police after the killing and sentenced to death. No. She won't let herself think that way. He'll come back after a week, and nobody will suspect anything. Just as always.

Nellie stepped over the threshold. With another step she was near the barber. Closing her eyes, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cold cheek. After a few seconds she slowly moved away from him.

She didn't open her eyes afterward. She didn't want to see his angry or shocked expression. And she certainly didn't know where she got the courage to do it from.

"Goodbye, Mr. T."

But after a few moments she had to open her eyes. He was gone.


	3. Six Days of Night

3. Six days of night

Nellie stood against the door frame for some time, looking melancholically down the street. She didn't know what she'd do if he wouldn't come back. She didn't know how she'd carried on without him for fifteen years. No, she certainly didn't want to return to that time of loneliness and emptiness.

The baker sighed and started toward the stairs, to the barbershop. The room was dark and silent. The barbering stuff and the razor case were gone, as was Lucy's photo. Other than that, everything seemed to be untouched. Nellie took the few steps towards the chair and eased herself in it, careful not to accidentally touch the pedal which would have sent her down on the bake house floor. With a broken neck.

Speaking of the bake house, she only had two bodies left. She'll probably run out of the secret ingredient before the barber's return. Nellie turned to look at the only source of light in the room, which was sliding inside through the big window. A pale full moon was hanging above the city, its light contrasting with the polluted dark clouds.

Something inside the room glistened in the moon's light. The baker moved her gaze upon it and found out with surprise that on the floor, just near the brand new mirror, was a razor. Sweeney Todd had forgotten one of his friends. She sat up slowly and walked to the mirror. She took the razor in her hands and caressed the cold silver.

The baker looked at the shiny blade, being mesmerized. She didn't know what she expected to see in the mirror of the silver. Maybe his dark charcoal eyes staring back at her. But when her own brown eyes returned her gaze, it dawned on her. Sweeney will have to come back. He wouldn't leave behind one of his friends. He couldn't. She looked again at the mirroring silver, and a smile played on her lips. Sweeney will come back and she won't let him go again.

Humming quietly to herself, the happy baker descended the stairs back to the shop, holding the razor like it was some sort of unimaginable prize. In the parlor, Toby was already sleeping on the couch. Sweet wrappers were discarded all over the floor surrounding the couch. Ah, well, at least he didn't get any gin…

As soon as Nellie found herself alone in her bedroom, she went straight to the makeup table. On it, between the many bottles of perfume, there was a medium sized black wooden box. It had a pretty simple design and it was varnished. The interior was lined with dark blue velvet. Nellie was quite fond of the box, seeing that she had received it as a gift from her older brother. That box was the safest place in the house for the baker. It was the place where she kept her secrets, her dreams, her hopes and her tears. She locked the razor in that box. After all, it was her only hope.

After changing her clothes, Nellie got into bed. Before closing her eyes, she cast a glance one more time at the box and smiled. It was like she had a part of him right there with her. The smile remained on her face as she fell asleep. "Just seven days"…

But what poor dear Nellie didn't know was that there will be less than seven days.

* * *

The first day without her tenant went just like any ordinary day. Nellie baked the pies and served them to the clients which seemed to be multiplying themselves. Toby helped her, cleaning at the end all the tables. The rest of the time, which was not plenty, the baker was daydreaming about the seventh day…At night she sank into a deep tired sleep, full of sweet dreams by the sea, under the gentle rays of the sun…and in the morning she woke up with a smile on her face, under the light which was timidly entering through the window.

The second day passed the same way. And so did the third. The fourth threatened to be like the previous ones, but for a telegram which arrived at lunchtime.

_"To: Eleanor Lovett_

_3 March.- Will arrive in London on the 12th_ _of March. Will stop by you first._

_From: Ralph Harker"_

Ralph. Her older brother was a doctor. He was a cultured man, who had traveled all over the world and could speak fluently French, German and Russian. Why did he leave England? His reason was that "he was tired of the country and wanted to explore and see new places and people". But Nellie knew it must have been something else. When they were children, he always protected her and her older sister, Meryl. Their mother died when Nellie was just six years old, and after that tragic moment, their father started drinking. A lot. Since then, even after they left their father, Ralph always took care of his younger sisters. He hadn't left England until he'd seen Nellie married with Albert. As for Meryl…they weren't on good terms anymore. Their conflict started because of her sister's unorthodox life and occupations. At least that's what they told Nellie, but she suspected that they were hiding something from her. Neither Ralph nor Meryl had married.

Nellie hadn't seen Ralph for almost a year. She missed him a lot, she was thinking about him almost every single day. Well, not as much as she thought about the barber upstairs, but still. So, Ralph was coming to town. That meant she had to pay Meryl a visit. No letters, because her sister lived in a notorious district in London, and the postman rarely got there.

* * *

"Four days". The only way to make a day pass quicker is to keep yourself as busy as possible. Fortunately, that was exactly what Nellie had to do. That being said, she was cheery all day during baking pies and serving customers. At noon, when Nellie was washing the dishes, Toby quietly entered the room, carrying the last plates. The baker was as cheery as she had been in the morning, despite the tiredness her body was experiencing. The boy placed the dishes near the sink and looked at her thoughtfully. Nellie smiled at him and grabbed the next plate, humming quietly.

"You really miss him, mum, don't you?"

The plate slipped from Nellie's hands, landing noisily on the bottom of the sink. The baker quickly grabbed it again and continued scrubbing at it with the sponge.

"Miss who darlin'?"

Her humming had disappeared. Toby sighed.

"It's not like it's that obvious, mum…"

Nellie raised her eyebrows and gave him a look, then continued washing the dishes.

"Mum…" Toby said in an annoyed tone and rolled his eyes. "You marked the days on the calendar!"

Nellie's cheeks turned rosy as she finished cleaning the last plate and placed it carefully in the cabinet.

"Now, Toby…Of course I miss him…He's the man in our house…Helps us and protects us…"

She arranged the plates carefully, and then turned to face the boy.

"But while he's away, who's the man in the house, eh?"

Toby blushed and the baker ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

"It's getting' late, dear. I'm goin' to bed and so should you."

She let go of him and started towards her bedroom.

"You shouldn't care so much about him, mum."

The baker stopped in the threshold.

"He ain't treating you the way you deserve…and I doubt he'll ever…"

Nellie turned to face her adopted son and forced a smile on her face.

"Sleep, son."

And she disappeared in her room. Toby sighed as he lay down on the couch. If love meant blindness, he didn't want to know anything about it. In Mrs. Lovett's case, her love could be deadly. He shook his head and groped under the couch for his bottle of gin.

* * *

Nellie knew somewhere deep in her heart that Toby was right. The little cut on her left cheek screamed the same fact. In front of her mirror, with no make-up on her face, the almost healed wound was still visible. But hopefully it won't be a scar. Maybe it won't be permanent. So maybe Sweeney's feelings also won't be permanent. Hope dies last, as they say.

This night was warmer than any other night that year. Being March, it was kind of an unusual thing to happen. Nellie tossed the long nightgown on a chair and took out from the wardrobe her shorter and thinner one. It was a white and pretty one, with short sleeves. Her favorite actually.

After tucking into bed, she said the usual "just three days", which now had become like a prayer, said every single night before sleeping. Very soon, the baker fell into a deep sleep and found herself in the world of dreams. She dreamed that she was on the beach, laying on the golden sand next to the love of her life. All was good, the sun was shining, the soft breeze felt good on her face and the seagulls were flying up high under the cloudless sky and over the blue waves. She wouldn't have minded to stay there for the rest of her life. She searched for the barber's hand and took it in her own, closing her eyes.

And then, something seemed to snap. The bright orange her eyes could see under her eyelids faded to dark grey. The seagulls went silent and Nellie heard a distant thunder. The soft breeze slowly changed into a strong freezing gale. Something was definitely wrong. The woman tried to open her eyes, but found it impossible. To her horror, Sweeney's hand slipped from hers. Nellie tried to shout, scream or make whatever sound she could think of, but to no avail. She was getting more and more panicked. The baker was blind, dumb and paralyzed. The pressure was immense and she felt something tugging at her, urging her to get up, to wake up.

Like nothing happened, all the sounds of the howling wind and the approaching storm suddenly went off. Nellie slowly managed to open her eyes. The outlines of her room slowly took shape, and the baker found herself laying on her bed. What a terrible dream…Someone was hovering over her. A man…She squinted her eyes in an attempt to see the stranger's face, trying to recognize his features…and when she finally managed to place those features on a familiar face, the man suddenly swooped down on her.

She immediately screamed. A bit too late I'm afraid.


	4. The Last Dawn

4. The Last Dawn

The carriage was squeaking along with the rhythmic thumping of horse hoofs. Drops of rain were gently hitting the window, which was fogged up from time to time by a certain barber's breath upon it. Sweeney Todd was seating in a comfortable chair inside the expensive carriage, his head resting lightly against the window. Not that there was much too see in the darkness outside, but it helped him to reflect. The people he was sharing the carriage with were too noisy. Two women and three men. The Judge's employees have been gossiping since the horses had started to pull the carriage.

The journey to Exeter was due to end the next night. They would stop just to change the exhausted horses and their coachmen. The carriages were guarded by a dozen mounted constables. It had been a weird day…first he got a telegram from none other than Judge Turpin himself, then he got to travel with him on one of his important business trips as his personal barber…it was too good to be true. Too easy…Well, he'll have to cover up his murder somehow, but it still seemed that he'd received the perfect opportunity on a tray.

After repairing all the broken stuff in his barbershop and packing up, the barber had watched the sunset, waiting for the right time to come for his leaving. The image of the red sun which disappeared behind the smoke blackened houses reminded him of the day of his deportation. An image which had remained imprinted on his retina for all those years. Fifteen years ago, he had looked at the same blood red sun while he was shipped to hell. Under the same red sun his life had been ruined. Strange really, a red sun in London. It seemed that the red sun showed its face in critical moments in the barber's life.

Benjamin Barker was snatched away from his perfect happy life and thrown into a dark hole. Technically for the rest of his life. And so it was. Benjamin Barker, the sensitive fragile naïve man, had remained in that prison in Australia. He was probably dead by now. His heart had been shattered into thousands of millions of pieces. Now Sweeney Todd stood in that man's place. Sweeney Todd, a man born from another's desperation and thirst for revenge. And this new man had an incomplete heart. A heart made from the shattered pieces of Barker's heart, held together by fragile threads. But some pieces were missing…without them, the demon barber of Fleet Street could not experience any positive feelings, just hate or indifference. And he had only one purpose in his life: killing the man who had destroyed his previous life. And surely many others…

The barber remembered his huge disappointment, when he had entered the gloomy shop, expecting to see his wife and child, and there was only…

"Nice wife you've got, Mr. Todd."

A female voice woke him up. It was one of the maids. He looked frowning at her, and she smiled at him.

"The woman who owns a pie shop under your establishment…" the woman said, as if he didn't know who she was referring to.

"Such a nice and kind lady."

"Right you are" another man agreed with her. "And she makes some damned good pies!"

As they continued talking about Mrs. Lovett and her (in)famous pies, Sweeney silently returned to his brooding. Such ignorant people. Soon there will be something more important to gossip about than his "wife", Mrs. Lovett. Like the mysterious murder of one of the most powerful people in London. However, his thoughts flew to his landlady. He could bet she would be extremely glad if she'd hear the people's assumption. Well, at least this was better than people gossiping about her sleeping with him out of wedlock. He shuddered at the simple thought. But then, who could tell whether some of them didn't suspect so?

The people in the carriage continued talking and gossiping. They didn't bother Sweeney with anymore questions, but once in a while they would throw him curious looks.

There had been a time when he actually liked the baker. Back then, when he and Lucy lived above her and Albert's shop. Mrs. Lovett had always been kind and nice to him and his wife. Always ready to help them when needed. She made delicious pies back then, he remembered. And tea and even coffee when some grateful stranger would give them such rare ingredients as a gift. She sometimes took care of little Johanna when Lucy was unable to, especially after she just gave birth and was in a very poor condition. She never asked questions. When he was troubled or just sad, she would comfort him. At first he thought she was just very good-hearted or meek to say "no", to refuse someone's pleas, even if she wanted to. But slowly he started to notice that she wasn't at all like that. She was much more tougher than him. She wasn't naïve. She was meek and kind to whom she wanted to, more exactly to the barber himself. The baker had always been for him a shoulder to cry on.

Mrs. Lovett had been a petite, energetic woman, a tornado of smiles and optimism. He didn't remember ever seeing her sad or crying, though he knew she hadn't had a life as happy or good as his. When he had returned after fifteen years, what he found in Mrs. Lovett's pie shop was a shadow of the baker he once knew. All that was left was a lonely, ghastly woman. But when she had raised her gaze at him, he knew she recognized him that instant, even if she didn't mention anything until later on. She had immediately brightened up. A sparkle has been lit once again in her eyes. Of course, the baker didn't know that he noticed all of this. He didn't let her know, otherwise who knows what she might've understood?

Of course, she didn't look like when she was young and happy and she probably never will. The rosy color she once had in her cheeks had been replaced with death pale porcelain. Her eyes were shadowed, and her hair had lost some of its bright color. She permanently looked tired. It seemed that those fifteen years hadn't been kinder to her than they'd been to him.

The wheels screeched and the carriage came to a halt. The people inside immediately stopped talking. One of the maids peeked trough the dark red curtains, frowning.

"Wot's goin' on? We're in the middle of nowhere!"

Outside it was pitch black. Sweeney frowned. Something wasn't right. He could sense it.

CHAUFF!

And then all hell broke loose. The air of the night was filled with screams, cries, shrieks and yells. And gunshots. With just one glance, the three men in the carriage banged the door open and flew outside, leaving the two women at safety. The moon was the only source of light. Sweeney squinted his eyes and noticed that they were in the middle of a forest glade. The Judge's constables were fighting with some other people that had emerged from the woods. The latter were dressed poorly and looked like robbers, which was what they probably were. But they were armed. Some of them were freeing the carriage horses and mounting them.

Sweeney turned around just in time to see the Judge's carriage fleeing through the birch trees. His constables were fighting the thieves off, drawing their attention from their master. What a vile man was Turpin. He would save his skin without having second thoughts about the people whom he left behind. He was just like Sweeney expected him to be. He didn't have any good or kind traits.

After this incident, the barber's hate and loathing for Turpin were amplified even more. And suddenly, he found himself in the middle of a battle, completely unarmed and exposed. Something was approaching him from behind. Four heavy hoofs trampling on the earth.

Sweeney abruptly turned around just in time to see the huge brown horse galloping towards him. On his back was one of the robbers, his arm extended, holding a dagger. In that moment, the barber latched onto his arm, holding tightly. The robber screamed, almost falling off his horse. He started shaking his arm frantically, trying to get rid of the man who was holding onto him so stubbornly. At the same time, Sweeney was hanging on the left side of the horse, swinging from the creature's front legs to its rear legs, risking to be hit by an iron hoof any moment.

The robber, quite a strong man, leaned in the horse's opposite side, trying to regain his balance. Sweeney seized the moment and shoved his legs into the horse's hindquarters, gaining his own balance for a moment. The weight on his right arm being temporarily removed, the robber lost his balance and fell on the other side. Sweeney was hauled on the horse's back. Quickly, he grabbed the reins and positioned himself in the saddle, slowing down the horse. At least the many years of work spent in the prison in Australia had proven useful. The barber couldn't suppress the bit of pride he felt after his little victory over the robber.

The moon had been hidden by a patch of dark clouds. His eyes searched the glade and soon found the small place where the trees were scarce. He turned the horse in the right direction and then gave it a nudge with his heels. The animal pranced and started towards the trees in a gallop. A bullet flew towards Sweeney's head. He dodged it in the last second and heard someone screaming behind him. He couldn't care less, his mind being focused on one thing only: he wasn't going to let the Judge slip through his fingers again. So he ran after the expensive carriage, dodging bullets and avoiding the people who ran blindly in front of the horse. One or two even threw their knives at him. When the barber was just a few feet away from the border of the glade, the clouds uncovered the moon and the silvery light fell upon the birch trees. Sweeney involuntarily looked up and what he saw there made him stop and stare.

There was a woman nestled in the tree. No, "nestled" is the wrong word, because she sat in such an elegant way on the branches, like a perching bird, in a perfect equilibrium, impossible to possess by any normal human being. She had an unearthly beauty. As he watched her, the volume of screams and shots got tuned down.

Her blond hair looked like liquid gold, frozen in rivulets which reached her shoulders, framing her face perfectly, and her skin very pale, but still very beautiful in the moonlight. Her shamrock green eyes were sweeping the glade, sometimes stopping to focus on something on the ground. Her traits were perfect. He could see no flaws on her face, not even soft expression wrinkles. She stood in such a natural way on the branches, one of her legs hanging loosely above the battlefield. She was beauty embodied.

Sweeney was like petrified. He couldn't move his eyes from the breathtaking woman, which looked like some kind of nocturnal bird in the white-barked tree, as if she belonged there. At the same time, from the fight behind him, bullets were flying very close to the barber's vital zones. The horse was neighing, nervously moving its legs and trying to get going, but Sweeney was bridling him unconsciously.

Then something happened. Her eyes locked with his, and she slightly lifted her eyebrows in wonder. The barber seemed lost. After a moment, the woman broke the "soul" gaze to look behind Sweeney. What she saw there made her frown and she looked again at Sweeney, and then quickly tilted her head toward the battle. The spell was finally broken and the sound came rushing again to his ears. He understood her warning and turned his horse around, facing whatever danger was coming after him. But before he could focus, before he could even react, he was stopped by a sudden sharp pain in the left part of his chest. It took him a moment to realize what had just happened. A cold, small metallic object had penetrated his leather jacket, his vest, his shirt, his skin and flesh and stopped in a dead point. The barber looked around and finally noticed the lifeless bodies on the ground that were thrown all over the glade.

The left part of his chest felt wet and the stain was growing. The barber felt lightheaded and started to fall backwards. Another shot scared the horse, who gave a terrified neigh and ran wildly into the darkness. Sweeney fell on his back to the ground full of dust. The world seemed to spin around him and then it stopped. Darkness flooded his eyes and silence his ears, and he felt nothing.

And that fatidic day, the Third of March 1846, was the last day the demon barber of Fleet Street saw the sun.


	5. Unexpected News

5. Unexpected news

When Nellie woke up, she was surprised to find her bedroom flooded with sunlight. Every white object in her bedroom was so shiny that it hurt her eyes just to look at it. The walls, the windows, the bedsheets… Yawning, she closed her sleep-addled eyes again and rolled onto her other side. She'd slept better than in the last weeks and finally felt fully rested. The baker opened her eyes and glanced at the clock, hoping to have a few more minutes to lie in bed…

She jumped. How could it possibly be ten o'clock already? The baker frantically tried to untangle herself from the bedsheets and get to the wardrobe. Why had she slept for so long? And why the hell didn't Toby wake her up? Asking herself a billion questions, Nellie finally managed to sit up, but just as she took one step she felt the room spinning around her and fell backward on her bed. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the dizziness to fade, her heart filled with anguish.

What was wrong with her? First not getting up at the right hour and now this? When she felt steady again, she carefully sat up, this time very slowly, and walked to the mirror. Leaning on the little make-up table in order to support herself, she lifted her eyes to her reflection.

What she saw there almost brought the dizziness back again. The woman who was returning her stare was looking ghastly. Her skin was deathly pale, even whiter than usual, darkness encircled her eyes and all the colour and life seemed to have been drained from her lips. Her dark hair was even wilder than usual, sticking in every direction possible, and contrasting with her colorless face. But what scared her most was a little stain of something red on her lips. She quickly ran her tongue over it. It was blood. _Shit_.

The baker felt like she was going to be sick. What the hell happened last night? She could not remember a thing. Biting her lip, she noticed something else. The white gown she was clad in reached her ankles and the sleeves were long. Certainly not the thin, short sleeved one she put on last night before getting into bed.

Nellie took two deep breaths and started dressing for the day. Toby must not find out about this. Especially since she herself couldn't remember what had happened. She laced her boots, walked to the door and slowly opened it. The parlor was silent. No sign of the boy.

The woman counted to three and then ran to the bathroom, which thankfully was also Toby-less. She locked the door, washed her face and wiped off the stain of blood on her lips, which now seemed to regain some of their color. She then quickly made for her room again through the parlor. This time she noticed Toby sleeping soundly on the couch.

She locked the door and went to her little make-up table. If the make-up didn't save her, she couldn't open her shop that day. She sat down in front of her mirror and powdered her cheeks, making them rosy, concealed the circles around her eyes and applied some lipstick. Well, at least now she looked reasonable…Nellie grabbed the brush and quickly attempted to tame her hair. Half-successful, the baker grabbed a few pins and pulled her hair up. One last glance at the mirror and…

It was at that moment that she noticed the two little red points like pin-pricks on the side of her neck.

* * *

The baker vaguely remembered how the evening before she'd wrapped a muffler around her neck because of the chilly weather. But as she was serving the customers and descending and ascending the stairs to the bakehouse, the muffler kept sliding down, and she had to adjust it every few minutes. Seeing that the stubborn thing didn't want to stay the way it should, she'd grabbed one big brooch and fastened it at her throat. God, she'd been so careless! And the curious thing was that she hadn't even noticed when she'd pierced her skin.

As she wasn't very sure as how the points had appeared on her neck, Nellie grabbed the muffler and fastened it again to her throat, this time working carefully with the pin. She threw one last glance at the mirror and, happy with the result, she left the room.

Toby was in the shop, sipping gin from a bottle.

"For Christ's sake, Toby! It's early mornin'! You haven't even eaten yer breakfast!"

She snatched the bottle from his hands and placed it back on a shelf.

"You're gonna get sick! And who's gonna help me with the shop then, eh?"

The boy sighed.

"I thought we don't open today, mum, cause you woke up so late…and you know what that means, right?"

Nellie raised her eyebrows at him.

"You're working too much, ma'am…You really ought to get some rest, take a day off…"

The boy had his forehead set in a frown, which really made Nellie feel uneasy. Even if she'd concealed her tired face with make-up, Toby had still detected that something wasn't right. The baker masked her concern with a smile.

"You know what, lad? I think you're right… goin' up and down on these stairs all day is wearin' me out…"

Toby grinned at her.

"So no work today?"

"M'afraid we'll have to work today…'Tis Wednesday, the middle of the week and I can't afford to loose so many customers…We'll take the day off tomorrow."

The boy's face brightened up. That meant a full day off, not just a half, like it would have been the present day. Nellie placed two plates on the table and walked to the counter, to prepare breakfast.

"Now, what would—"

"Please don't be mad at me, ma'am, but I've already eaten breakfast… it's just that I've woken up real early and I was wolf-hungry and then I went to sleep again…"

"'Tis alright, dear… But don't tell me you know how to fry eggs…"

"Of course not! I ate two pies!" The boy said proudly.

Nellie's amused expression transfigured into an almost horrified one.

"But don't worry, I didn't go down in the bake house! I know I'm not allowed to, but you left a small tray with some pies here on the counter, and I just couldn't resist!"

Nellie gripped the counter, steadying herself. She slowly opened her mouth, trying to articulate at least one word, but found out that she was unable.

"…T'was really fantastic! I've never tasted anything like that in my entire life! No wonder you've got so many customers! Hmm…What did you say you put in them?"

Nellie took a deep breath and somehow recovered.

"Th-thanks, lad. N-now come on, do you think the shop'll open by itself? Go and put everything in order till I get something to eat, alright?" She said brightly.

"Alright, ma'am!"

As he went to get a broom, he couldn't help but notice that she'd ignored his question. And that made him think about Mr. Todd. He was sure they were hiding something from him. He'd give anything in the world, just so the barber that inspired him evil would not come back. Ever. This few days had been so nice, who needs a Mister Todd anyway?

* * *

Clouds. Oven. Door creak. Sizzle. Fire. Smoke. Rustle. Tray. Lush. Ambrose. Smell. Tumult. Dresses. Meat. Hats. Gloves. Shoes. Pies.

Chairs being dragged. Steps. Ale. Bell tinkle. Crowd. Laughter. Glass. Clink. Plates. Flour. Perfume. Lamplight. Alcohol. Exclamations. Gin. Dark.

The bakehouse was too dark. Too dark for Nellie's taste. She wasn't scared of the dark, but now it gave her an uneasy feeling every time she went down there. Especially after last night. It was like someone or something was watching her every move.

The customers were flowing as usual into the pie shop. Everybody seemed happy to enjoy a juicy meat pie at the end of the day. While Toby tended the tables, Nellie was down in the bakehouse to bring a new batch of pies. She opened the oven's heavy metal door with much more difficulty than usual, and it left her a bit out of breath. Trying to ignore the strange weakness her body was showing, she took the tray full of meat pies and started to ascend the stairs. And then it happened again.

The baker was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness. Sensing that her arms may give out, she carefully placed the tray on the stone floor and sat down next to it on the lowest of the stair's steps. She buried her face in her hands, taking slowly deep breaths. What was wrong with her? It clearly had something to do with last night. And the worst thing was that she couldn't remember a thing. As the dizziness was slowly fading away, Toby's worried voice reached her ears from upstairs:

"Mum? Are you alright?"

Nellie composed her voice.

"Yes, lad. The pies weren't roasted enough. I'll come up in a tick."

The baker slowly got to her feet, grabbing the tray. Everything seemed to be in order. As she climbed the stairs again, she thought that the last thing she would like to happen would be Toby knowing about her problem… He would get worried and maybe even go to the bakehouse. And that would be the end of him. Mr. Todd wouldn't let him live a second more… Entering the shop, she glanced at the clock. Eight in the afternoon.

Fortunately the baker regained her cheery mood once again and continued to spin around the tables, serving pies and ale and exchanging words with the hungry citizens of London. Toby was proving to be really helpful, and she couldn't help but ask how she would have coped without him tonight.

As the closing hour was quickly approaching, Nellie descended the stairs to the bakehouse to get the last batch of pies, feeling a pang of anxiety in her stomach. This time she opened the oven door with no problem. And she went up the stairs with no problems as well. But when she entered the shop, the weariness got to her again. The baker quickly gripped the nearest counter, putting the tray on it. She quickly looked around, but the remaining customers and Toby were all outside. Good. They shouldn't see her like this. Why wasn't the dizziness leaving her alone? She felt that her legs were going to give out soon. This wasn't good…it wasn't good at all. The baker slowly turned around and let herself slide down on the floor with her back resting against the counter. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest, trying to wake her body up. The baker looked up and outside through the window. Toby was struggling with a tray full of dirty plates and glasses. Suddenly, her vision wavered.

"Oh, God." She muttered, closing her eyes and resting her forehead in her hands. She started taking deep slow breaths, like she did last time. Maybe Toby was right. Maybe she shouldn't have worked today. The doorbell tinkled and she heard uneasy steps entering the shop. The baker looked up. She could see well now. Good.

"Mum?"

Toby was looking down at her with big eyes filled with worry, the big tray in his hands. She looked at him and giggled, trying to get up. The room swayed with her and she sat down quickly again. Damn it. She couldn't pretend to be feeling good anymore. Toby quickly placed the tray on a table. A plate slipped and fell on the floor, clattering loudly. The boy didn't even look at it. He knelt beside the baker, taking her gloved hand in his.

"What's wrong, mum?"

She sighed and looked at the floor.

"It's no big deal, Toby. I'm just a bit tired at the end of the day, s'all. Would you be a dear and fetch me some sugar?"

"Sure, mum!"

Toby was getting more worried than ever. There had been days when they'd worked double than today, and his mum had been alright. There was something going on. Something bad. At least she could rest now. It was a good thing Mr. Todd wasn't around… he wouldn't allow her to rest, Toby was sure of it. The barber didn't care about the kind and sweet baker like he did.

The boy quickly found the jar with sugar in a cupboard, picked a spoon and rushed to Nellie. The woman ignored the spoon completely and opened the jar with haste, pouring the sugar directly into her mouth.

"Thanks, son. I'm gonna feel better now."

"I'm gonna close the shop. You stay here and when I return we'll get you to bed, alright?"

She nodded and he started toward the door.

"Toby?" her voice was still weak.

The boy turned around.

"You're a good lad."

He smiled at her, but the smile didn't touch his eyes, which were still worried. Then he ran outside, to the customers. A few minutes passed. Nellie was feeling stronger. Thank God she'd remembered about the sugar. She slowly gripped the counter again and pulled herself up. Her legs were steady. The baker took a deep breath.

Just then, the bell tinkled and the front door opened. Nellie raised her eyes.

"Sorry, we're closing…"

"I know, ma'am, but you should see this. It's urgent."

The tall, thin and young boy who was holding an envelope must have been the postman. She looked at the clock. Ten-thirty. The baker slowly took the paper from his hand.

"Have a good night, ma'am."

The postman threw her one last curious glance and disappeared. She looked confusedly after him, then at the telegram in her shaking hands. She had a Predicament. Suddenly it felt very quiet. She slowly flipped the paper and started to read it.

"_Deeply regret to inform you…"_

Toby's footsteps entered through the back door.

"…_that your tenant…"_

"You shouldn't be standing, mum...what if you get dizzy again? You-"

"…_has been shot and killed…"_

"-should go get some sleep-"

"…_in an ambush…"_

"-and relax…"

"…_trying to protect the Honorable Judge Turpin…"_

"…is that a letter?..."

Toby's words were flying by her ears.

"…_do not have the body…"_

"…what does it say?"

" …_has been shot and killed…"_

The soundless words on the paper were echoing in her head.

"…mum?"

"…_and killed…"_

Echoing_..._

"…what's wrong?"

"…_your tenant…"_

Inside her head.

"…what's going on?"

"…_Sweeney Todd." _


	6. A Bloody Clue

6. A Bloody Clue

The next morning when Nellie woke up, it took her a few minutes to figure out why her pillow felt wet and why there were dried tears on her cheeks. She'd thought she had cried herself to sleep, but apparently she had also cried in her sleep all night. Barely noticing that she was still wearing her day dress, the baker started rubbing furiously at her eyes, trying to get rid of the dimness that prevented her from seeing properly. And suddenly, she remembered. She remembered the reason of her despair, and she was once more wrapped in the embrace of a cold and deadly feeling. The tears started falling again.

She didn't leave the shop for three days. She barely left her room as a matter of fact. Or, to be more precise, the bed. Toby was bringing her water and tea and bits to eat, but she would seldom consume them. The boy was frightened. His most beloved mum was in deep depression, and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd placed the "CLOSED" sign on the house door and told the inquisitive customers that "Mrs. Lovett was away to her aunt at the countryside and will be coming back soon".

She'd cried continuously the first day and the first night, making him wonder how one person could shed so many tears. He didn't get any sleep that night, being kept awake by her sobbing her heart out. But the next two days, when she didn't cry anymore, when she just laid down in bed, terribly resembling to a dead person, were even more terrible. And what mostly scared Toby was that the day Mr. Todd had left, he'd wished he'd never come back. And now, it really happened. _Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it all. _It was worse now, that the barber wasn't around anymore. Why did she care so much about him? Oh, how he wished he'd get him back somehow, just to make her happy, cheery self return…

"Toby, dear…"

The sound of her voice startled him. The boy was sitting on the edge of the bed, and since he'd been there, she hadn't made a sound.

"Could you get me the lil' bottle of alcohol?"

Her voice sounded raspy, as if she hadn't used it for quite some time. He looked inquisitively into her eyes.

"What for, mum?" he asked her, feeling a tinge of uneasiness.

"Just bring it, please."

"Of course."

The boy quickly went through the cabinets in the parlor and found the bottle. He didn't know what in the world she wanted to do with it, he had to be careful, but all the same curiosity was getting the better of him. Re-entering her room, he noticed with surprise that she was searching through one of the drawers of the end table next to her bed. When Toby got near her, she turned around and quickly took the bottle from his hand. The thing in her other hand, the one she got from the drawer, he noticed, was a bit of cotton wool. The baker went in front of the mirror, craned her neck to the left and got her hair out of the way, exposing two little red pricks on her neck. The boy watched her curiously, as she patted the pricks with the wool dipped in alcohol.

"Where did you get those, mum?" the boy asked, frowning at her.

She cleared her throat, but to no avail. Her voice sounded even fainter.

"I was careless with me pin. The one I use to fasten the muffler with…"

Toby found this of peculiar interest, but didn't bother her anymore. After finishing her task, the baker went back to bed, burying her face in the pillow once again. Toby's eyelids were slowly closing. After making sure she had everything she needed, the boy made his way to the parlor. He got a bottle of gin and laid on the couch. His mum hadn't answered his "good nite".

* * *

Nellie Lovett hadn't felt so terrible in her entire life. Not only because of her loss, but also because of her attitude towards Toby. The poor lad didn't deserve this, but as much as she tried, she couldn't find the energy to act happy .

The sun had long set when the baker managed to pull herself out of bed. One glance at the clock told her it was pretty late. She couldn't get any sleep, and she didn't even want to, because all her dreams were revolving around _him_. The loneliness was killing her. She needed to talk to someone about her tragedy, but Toby wasn't the right person. Her brother was to arrive the day after tomorrow, so the only one left was…Meryl.

In just a few minutes, the baker had trimmed herself up and was ready to get out the door. To her relief, Toby was still slouched on the couch and the bottle of gin was empty. The boy won't even suspect that she'd been out.

The night was chilly. Holding her coat closer to her body, Nellie walked along the empty street. London was pretty crowded even at that late hour, which was closing to midnight. The sky was cloudy, and the moon nowhere in sight, so the baker found it curious that the city was pretty well illuminated. It didn't take her long to find a cab. She climbed inside and the carriage slowly pulled out in the direction of one of the most dangerous districts of London.

Nellie didn't have the knowledge as to why her sister was still living there. Meryl earned quite a lot of money from hanging out and about, maybe even more than the baker herself did now, with her successful pies. Surely she could have afforded to move from that dirty and perilous district by now.

As the carriage wandered through dimly-lit streets, past gaunt black-shadowed archways and evil-looking houses, the flaring streets became blurred to her eyes.

The baker sighed. The way her sister was earning money had been the reason behind the conflict between her and their brother. In just a few days, Ralph would be in London, and once again Nellie would have to bear their quarrels. Just before he left last time, it seemed that Meryl had crossed the line about something they didn't want by any means to divulge to Nellie, no matter how much the baker had insisted. However, from what she'd heard listening outside closed doors, it seemed that Ralph had been upset because of some marks or scars that had found their place somewhere on Meryl's skin. The baker didn't know how they appeared there or why they caused such misunderstandings between her siblings, but she had a dark feeling that the prickles she had on her neck were very similar to the ones her sister had had. She also had a feeling that Ralph wouldn't be too happy to discover them. It seemed that lately the muffler had become her best friend.

As the carriage kept jerking on the cobblestone, Nellie couldn't help but think about the man who had meant the world for her. She still couldn't believe she'll never see his perfect face or black eyes, or listen to his pacing from above her shop. Never in her life had the baker felt so lonely like the present. Not even when Albert died or after Benjamin was shipped to Australia. At least at that moment she knew that the love of her life was still alive.

When the carriage abruptly came to a halt, it seemed to her that she had grown years older. Nellie jumped outside, thanked the coachman, gave him a few silver coins and asked him to wait for her. East End was just as she remembered it: dark, dirty, wretched and undoubtedly dangerous. Only one lamp post was in function, its dim light falling upon the nearest brick wall, revealing the name: "Cheshire Street" on a dusty plate, eaten away with rust. Two skinny dogs were searching through the garbage scattered on the cobblestone around the next lamp post. The only other sounds were coming from a nearby bar, somewhere towards the other end of the street: loud music, loud voices, occasional shouts and broken glasses or bottles.

Nellie was really relieved that she didn't have to walk by that. Number 13 on Cheshire Street was situated near the other end of the street. The old house had two stories and an attic. Flower pots resided on the window frames. Had the flowers not been dead, it would have looked really invigorating and colorful in the monochromatic landscape. In front of the door there was a little welcome mat, on which an orange tabby cat was sleeping soundlessly.

As Nellie approached the house, the cat's ears twitched and her green eyes opened. She lifted her head, studying the woman from head to toe, and when the baker was almost at the door, the cat left out a "meow", quickly jumped to its feet and disappeared into the shadows. The door of the house was half open, a curious thing, letting through various voices. It seemed that her sister had guests.

The baker slowly pushed the door open and was astonished. The former living room was filled with thick, pungent smoke and almost empty, but for a few large and heavy pieces of furniture: three cupboards, two bookcases, a tall pendulum clock and a piano, all dark brown and all old, with their paint shriveled. In the middle of the room, at a medium sized round table lightened by a big oil lamp with a globe of matted glass, four people were playing cards. Two women and two men. While one of the men was a dark-skinned midget and was sitting on a bar stool, the other one was sporting a pretty large belly and had red cheeks. The younger woman was definitely a prostitute, all pampered up and wearing a low cut dress. The other one looked like she could have been the matron of a brothel. She had sharp features and seemed to be around sixty years of age. They were all smoking what looked like cheap tobacco cigarettes. But what amazed Nellie was that her sister was nowhere in sight.

"Welcome, señora! Why don't you join us?"

The baker jumped in surprise. The drunk, unshaven man that had grabbed her arm had appeared out of nowhere. Before she even had time to react, he dragged her to the table and sat her down on a wobbly chair, between the fat man and the elder woman. Automatically, the midget dealt out the cards, splitting them before the five of them that were now at the table.

"Somethin' to drink?"

The drunkard was suddenly beside her, holding a dirty bottle of what appeared to be gin.

"No, thanks." she replied and took the cards.

"No lady has ever refused me, I'm tellin' ya! You have to taste this! One of the finest, I'm tellin' ya!" He repeated and produced a glass, as dirty as everything that was in the room.

Nellie looked at the greasy cards in her hands and thought that she shouldn't waste too much time with all this charade. She cleared her throat.

"So, who should I thank for hospitality?"

"To no one!" the drunkard merrily replied in his Spanish accent. "Everyone is welcome here!" He poured some cheap gin in the glass, which he placed in front of her, on the table.

"What he meant is that this house belongs to no one."

The fat man seemed utterly bored as he made his discard. Before him, on the table, there was a metal box of tobacco, from which he grabbed the aforementioned element, making his own cigarettes. The finished products found their place in another rusty box.

"No one lives here? How's that?" Nellie asked, trying to pay attention to every little detail of the room.

"Well, it's simple. The lass who used to live here moved out! So here we are!"

"When did she move? The … lass?"

"It must've been a few days ago." the elder woman said, taking the trick. It seemed they were playing Reverse.

"Do you know where she went?"

"Tomkins would know that, for sure." The prostitute giggled mischievously.

"I wouldn't know! She was a fine specimen though, very fine indeed..." Tomkins, whom Nellie identified as being the fat man, continued the play. "Such a pity we don't see her no more. But if we did, we wouldn't have this great hall now, would we?" He let out a hearty laugh, but no one seemed eager to join him.

"I think she married the big chap, the blond one who used to come here from time to time. He seemed to be the rich type. She's probably running around a huge mansion by now!" the matron said.

"Yeah, she probably forgot everythin' about everyone by now...and ya should do too! Nobody under certain standards will be of interest to her now!" Tomkins added.

"You should probably ask at 'The Velvet Fox'. She used to go there quite frequently..." The prostitute lit another cigarette. The center of the room was filled again with heavy smoke, which, flying through the light emitted be the oil lamp, resembled to the dark clouds of a storm.

" 'The Velvet Fox'? Where's that?" Nellie felt as if she wanted to snatch the words out of her mouth.

"Four of hearts? You damn dog!" the midget said in a funny voice, that in any other day might have made her laugh, but now it just made her frown in annoyance at the interruption. Tomkins was again the only one who laughed.

"On Raphael Street, just as you turn 'round from Knightsbridge Green. Looks pretty nice from the outside, but ya don't wanna know what they say about the things that go on inside." The prostitute continued, unfazed.

"People go in and never come out!" The drunkard took another sip from the bottle and placed it on the table.

"Yeah, like ol' Jimmy! Remember that night when he got robbed? All his money – gone in a puff! So he went to that damn bar and – did anyone hear anything of him afterward?" The midget said, dealing the cards again.

"Shut your mouth, Will. You know damn well Jimmy was short-tempered. So angry because someone stole the money he himself had stolen before...He probably got in a fight with some bloke and that was it." the matron said sharply.

The drunken immigrant leaned against the table. "Oh, Jane, why do you always have to ruin a good story?"

"Simply because I don't believe all that shit."

"So you think it's all made up? That it's not real?"

"Oi, shut it, you two!" the prostitute interfered.

"Yes, you should open your eyes from time to time, Alberto."

"What makes you think that I don't?" the anger of the man was quite visible, mixed with the alcohol in his system.

"Maybe if you had, Anna would still be here!" Jane raised her voice.

"Why, you bloody ol' wench!"

And suddenly he lunged at her, his hands directed at her throat. The bottle of gin rolled on the table, spilling the liquid all over the place. As some playing cards flew in the air, the table was thrown sideways. The midget let out a scream as he fell off his tall little chair. But the woman had an ace up her sleeve. As fast as everything happened, she produced a rusty knife out of the many layers of her dress and thrust it in Alberto's stomach. In the same moment, Nellie was slipping quietly out the door. She had subtly stood up from her chair, when everyone's attention had been captured by the one that was now probably laying dead, and slowly made for the door. There was no more information she could get.

Murder was something frequent in London, especially in the lower class world. The baker wasn't moved by this much more than she was by the murders that used to take place above her shop. As she walked back to the carriage, recounting all the information she'd just found, Nellie had the strange feeling of being followed. She glanced nervously all around, but didn't see anything suspect. The street was quite empty and dark, and the only sounds were the ones emerging from the bar.

She climbed again in the carriage and off she went. Throughout all the way back, the baker stood deep in thought. She would pay a visit to "The Velvet Fox" the next morning, in daylight. Nellie felt somewhat more content that she'd found something to keep her mind occupied.

It seemed that just a moment had passed and she was in front of her shop. Mechanically, she paid the coachman again and stepped inside. Just as she headed for her room, she was suddenly seized by a dreadful feeling. She couldn't remember whether she'd left any evidence that would point toward the secret ingredient of her pies in the bakehouse or not. In all those days she'd mourned, Toby could have gone downstairs and...she shuddered at the thought.

Quickly checking on the boy, the baker flew down the stairs. Once there, she chased the dark shadows by lighting an oil lamp. The light revealed the bakehouse untouched, just like she had left it last time. The oven stood closed and silent and the meat grinder was clean. Still, she felt that something was out of place.

Scouting every dark corner, the baker reached the entrance to the sewers. The only sound was the one of droplets of water falling upon the musty cobble. Hesitantly, she approached the sewer. A rat squeaked somewhere nearby. Lifting the fold of her skirts, she walked along the dirty water. At the first curb, she found something white floating, caught somehow between two stones. She bent down and grabbed it, feeling the soft touch of silk.

The white material turned out to be a gown, sleeve-less and quite short. It was the nightgown she wore the night from which she woke up so tired, and with the little red pricks on her neck. Her hands trembled and her legs seemed to give in. The gown was soaked in blood, unwashed by the dirty water.


	7. The Velvet Fox

7. The Velvet Fox

Raphael Street. That was the place Mrs. Lovett headed to in a dusty cab pulled by a mangy horse. Her shop was still closed and she didn't intend to reopen it anytime soon. She'd left the boy to fill his time with whatever he felt like, and after assuring and reassuring him that she'll come to no harm during her visit to her sister, the baker set off for "The Velvet Fox", only to find it closed.

The reinforced door was locked and looked a great deal more sturdier than the doors of the surrounding houses. The building itself didn't stand out, being as gloomy and old like the rest, and Nellie could barely make out the words painted in what was once red paint above the entrance: "The elve ox". The place looked deserted, but as Nellie circled the building and approached a back door, she heard noises.

She pushed the door and to her surprise it opened, leading into a poorly-lit corridor. Voices of women were reaching to her, but just barely. With each step she took, the voices became clearer. The corridor led to the main chamber of the local, a huge room with a bar and lots of tables and chairs. Three women raised their eyes in wonder when Mrs. Lovett stepped into their view. One was in the process of scrubbing the floor, another was cleaning the tables and the other was polishing glasses at the bar.

"Excuse me, ladies, for barging in like this. I can see the place is closed, but I'm looking for my sister, you see. Someone told me she is working here."

The women looked at each other with a certain amount of surprise. After a few seconds, the one at the bar who seemed bolder than the other two, approached Nellie with a beaming smile on her face.

"Why, of course! You look so much like her! But why in the world would you look for Beatrice here at this hour? She only works at night, she must be at home resting right now."

Beatrice?! What in the world was her sister doing? Nellie was sure the woman was talking about her, they looked very much alike, but why would Meryl change her name? Something was fishy here...

"My bad. I was gone from the city for a long time and only came back few days ago. I looked for her at her place, but it seems she has moved out. Do you happen to know where she lives now?"

"I wouldn't know that. She's very private about her whereabouts, you see. You could ask some of the gents who come here, they all seem to find their way there!"

All three giggled. Nellie was not content. She needed to find her sister and she knew that the only thing that made those maids trust her was her uncanny resemblance to her sibling.

"But only the special ones get to her, if you get what I'm sayin'" the woman continued, winking. "Not all ordinary folk."

Nellie had had enough talk.

"That's nice dear, but do you have any idea how I might find her?"

"What day is it today?"

"It's Thursday."

"Oh, she'll be performing tonight. You can come and see her just before she begins her number at nine o'clock."

Nellie smiled, even though she was not happy at all with her results.

"Thank you very much, girls! I shall come here tonight then. Goodbye!"

She turned to leave, but she didn't miss the mischievous looks the maids were throwing each other. She did not like that. She did not like it at all, but nevertheless she had to return there tonight.

* * *

The place looked grim and dirty from the outside, even menacing in the darkness of the night. But the worst thing was that it was total silence, like the first time she came there. The window shutters were closed as well.

Nellie started toward the main door warily. One step, two, three. And then she firmly pushed the door. It was dreamlike. Everything changed. Surreal music flooded her ears and a mix of a hundred fragrances of perfume enveloped her. Without even realizing her feet carried her inside and across the small parlour. The next room was huge and dimly-lit.

The first thing she noticed was the strange reddish color of the light. She searched for the source and saw that it came from regular candles mounted on the walls. On a stage that stood a little higher than the floor was an Asian girl who sang in the surreal voice she'd heard when she'd entered. The girl was accompanied by another two musicians, a violin player and a pianist.

Everything was dark red in there: the cushions, the curtains, the ceiling...even the furniture seemed to have red accents. All over the place rounded tables and chairs were scattered. Nellie could see a bar at the far end of the room. But the most intriguing were the people. They were dressed in a most exquisite way, especially the women. Some were wearing really short dresses (above the knees!) or shoes with such high heels Nellie wondered how they could even walk. The men didn't shock as much, even though some were wearing odd colored clothes. It was like a ball of eccentricity.

At first, no one seemed to notice Nellie, even though she looked so different from the people there. But not after long, men and women alike started to glance briefly at her, and soon enough some of them where staring. In the meantime, another singer took the stage, this time a blonde young girl in a ruined dress.

"May I serve you?"

Nellie turned abruptly. She had reached the bar and a rather good-looking American Indian barman was looking at her with a small smile on his face.

"A glass of gin, please."

The barman frowned.

"Gin? A lady like you should enjoy far more exquisite beverages. On the house."

She smiled at him and sat on a bar stool, still wondering what this place was and how her sister got to work there.

"You look very similar to one of our stars here" he told her as he was mixing the drink.

"How did you know I wasn't her?" Nellie asked him, trying to grasp every bit of information.

He handed her the drink and looked at her with an amused smile.

"You smell differently."

That left Nellie puzzled. As he turned to another customer, she sipped her drink.

"Wasn't she supposed to perform tonight?" the baker asked.

"She was. Only something happened and she couldn't make it. Ada here had to replace her for the night." He nodded towards the girl on the stage, then returned to mixing drinks.

Nellie took another sip. She would have to return the next day, and the day after tomorrow if her sister didn't show up. Could it be that Meryl was trying to avoid her? The Velvet Fox was truly beautiful and surreal, but Nellie didn't feel quite safe here. As a matter of fact, she started feeling rather sick, her head went a little dizzy and general weakness took over her. She looked at her drink and placed it on the bar. The barman glanced at her and smiled and for one moment Nellie actually thought she saw that he had a pair of fangs! She shook her head, but it didn't clear her mind. It was time to leave. She got down from the stool, turned and bumped into a tall, dark man. Why was he standing there?!

"Excuse me." She walked around him and went for the door. Where was the damn door? She passed some stairs and heard something that sounded terribly similar to screams coming from upstairs. She pushed through the people, through dresses and cigarette smoke, through lace and velvet, trying to find the exit. Why were there so many people suddenly? She passed by dancers and tall men and beautiful girls and...there it was! The door stood right in front of her with all its might. When Nellie finally stepped outside, the music and sounds quickly died behind her.

It was way better outside. But when did it get so cold? There was no cab in sight, so Nellie started walking, hoping she would find one on the way. When she almost reached the end of the street, she heard a door slam. She turned and saw that it was the same door she had just came out, and two men were outside. They both saw her and started coming her way.

Nellie quickened her pace and turned left on the first street. She passed by a huge black dog, sleeping in front of an abandoned house. When she walked in front of him, he opened his yellow eyes and watched her until she couldn't see him anymore. After a minute or so, she glanced back and saw that they were still behind her in the distance. She made some other turns, randomly, and then she came to the conclusion that they were truly following her. And she was feeling more nauseous with every step she took. She stopped at a street corner to lean on a brick wall.

"Oi, lady!" she heard somewhere behind her.

"There's no need to run, we just want to have a little chat..."

One of them laughed.

"And maybe have some dinner!" said the other one.

More laughter. She started walking again as fast as she could.

"She's quite tiny, this one, Will. Think she'll be enough for the both of us?"

"I don't actually care, Pete, but I'm definitely having dinner tonight!"

Nellie heard a commotion behind and assumed that the one called Pete must have hit him. She felt like throwing up. She was leaning on everything she found in her way: walls, trashcans, lampposts...

"C'mon now, don't fall behind! I'm not gonna wait for you!"

"Pete, look here! Is this a golden eye, what do you think?"

"I don't care! Keep up the pace or I'll have dinner by myself!"

"But this is serious..."

Nellie turned once more onto a narrow street and his voice faded away. But she could still hear one pair of footsteps behind her. In front of her, the street led to a large boulevard. There were people there...if she could only get-a seizure took hold of her, she stumbled and fell to her knees. She started to cough, but before she could throw up, a hand grabbed her hair, lifted her and pushed her against a wall. Pete was common looking, except for his gray eyes. In fact, it wasn't the eyes that were so peculiar, but the hungry, animalistic look he threw her.

"Will, if you ain't coming, I'm starting without you!" he shouted as he pinned her to the wall.

She coughed, took a breath and kicked with all the strength she had left. Pete did not even stumble. Instead, he laughed.

"Hurry up, Will! This is going to be fun!"

He grabbed her throat and banged her head against the wall behind her, making her dizzy.

"Will, this is the last call! I'm starting without you!"

There was no answer, so Pete immobilized her and to Nellie's horror, his eyes started to darken inexplicably. The next thing she knew, her head was tilted sideways, and she was screaming and squirming and he had his mouth on her throat. What happened next she didn't understand – she found herself free of his grasp and she fell to her knees once again. Something terrible was happening right beside her, but she couldn't look right away, for she felt nauseous again and finally threw up. She could hear sounds of ripping clothes and flesh and a horrible gurgling.

When she was finished and looked upon the scene, mindless fear took hold of her. Pete was on the ground on his back, being savaged by a big black dog, the same dog Nellie had passed by before. It didn't last for long. As she rose to her feet, the dog tore his heart out with a big snap and ate it in one gulp. And then his yellow eyes locked on her.

Nellie was frozen. She knew she couldn't outrun the beast, so she just closed her eyes, trembling and waited for it to be over. One second passed, then two and three...and she felt something warm at her hand. She opened her eyes and looked at the dog in shock, for he was licking her hand. He returned her stare and wagged his tail. She started petting him, still in shock. The baker couldn't see any trace of aggressiveness in him, and when she realized what had just happened she found herself laughing hysterically.

After she recovered, she walked all the way home, and the dog never left her side. From time to time, his muzzle would briefly touch her hand, like a reassuring gesture, dispelling all her fear. When they arrived at the shop, Toby was passed out on gin again. As Nellie searched for a bowl for food through the cabinets, the dog started sniffing all over the place (including Toby).

"Now what name should I give you?" the baker wondered.

She started toward the door leading to the stairs to the barbershop.

"You saved my life, so you deserve a really nice name. Rover? Buck? Maybe Butch?"

The dog looked at her and started padding after her.

"Fang? What about Blacky? You've got to help me, you know, I-"

She opened the door and bumped into someone.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave, sir" she started. "We're closed at this..."

She raised her eyes and could speak no more, for the man had those deep onyx eyes that she remembered so well, and the so-distinctive white streak in his dark hair.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

His voice was just the same.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted right away.


	8. Golden Eyes and Razor Blades

8. Golden Eyes and Razor Blades

Sweeney looked in dismay at the black beast that stood over his unconscious landlady, baring its teeth at him. He tried once more to scoop her up, but the dog growled in his face.

"Oh, come on!" He was losing his patience. "I can't just leave her on the floor now, can I? You need to cooperate!"

The dog didn't seem to be thinking the same way, though. Each time Sweeney would try to as much as touch his landlady, the beast would snap at him. The barber sighed in frustration.

"Look, I only want to move her to the bed. If I harm her in any way, you have my permission to rip my throat out, all right?"

The dog threw him a fierce golden look, his mouth open in what seemed a sarcastic smile, but took a step back. Amazed by the fact that the beast seemed to understand him, Sweeney slowly leaned down and lifted Mrs. Lovett off the floor, his eyes never leaving the dog.

"As if this night wasn't difficult enough..." the muttered as he walked into Mrs. Lovett's bedroom, the dog following close on his heels.

His landlady's cosy quarters were lighted only by a dim candle. The barber's eyes quickly ran over the flowery wallpaper before placing her on the bed. As he drew his hand from under her head, he noticed something red smeared on his hand. Now this explained his landlady's sudden swoon. She must have hit her head before arriving at the pie shop... _God knows where she's been sneaking at such a late hour... _But the longer he stared at the blood on his fingers, the more he started feeling the now familiar hunger. With a last glance, he stormed out of the room and to the bathroom, where he washed out the source of his distress. Mrs. Lovett needed help, he concluded. And there was no way he could safely help her.

The barber returned to the shop, found a bottle of gin and sat in a booth. And waited. The black dog padded into the room, to check on him he supposed, but it didn't linger and returned to Mrs. Lovett's bedroom. Sweeney spent a few moments in silence until he saw a shadow at the door. He bolted out of the chair and within a second he opened the door with the so familiar bell tinkle. Outside the threshold stood a man, whom for the first time Sweeney was relieved to see.

"Nikolai, you're here! So this really does work..." the barber muttered.

"Of course it does, newbie!" the man replied. "Now, where's our damsel in distress?" he added with a smug smile.

"In her bedroom. It's this way." Sweeney turned to leave, but the man interrupted him.

"Ahem. Aren't we forgetting something?"

Sweeney raised his eyebrows.

"Don't tell me you can't enter..."

"Of course I can't! What were you thinking? Come on, you've got to come up with something quick, I don't have all night..."

"You've got to be kidding me..." Sweeney groaned.

A few moments later, Mrs. Lovett was sprawled on a table outside, with Nikolai tending her wound. Sweeney was inside hyperventilating with a glass of gin in his hand. The beast was, of course, next to the table, its eyes intent on the other man. The barber could hear it growling fiercely from time to time.

"You can come now, Todd. There's no more blood."

Taking a deep breath, Sweeney left the glass on the table and exited the shop. Nikolai was licking the last drop of blood off his finger under the murdering glances of the black dog. The barber frowned and picked up his landlady once more. After carefully setting her down on the bed again, he walked outside, leaving the beast at the foot of the bed. Nikolai was waiting patiently outside, at one of the tables.

"Do you know that's a golden eye?" he asked, as Sweeney sat down opposite him.

"A what?" he muttered, his mind focused on something else entirely.

"A golden eye. Those black dogs with golden eyes... haven't seen one in a long time." Nikolai was looking straight ahead into the shadows of Fleet Street.

"What about them?"

"They can kill us as easily as we kill each other. They're very strong and their bite is poisonous to us..."

"Then how come you weren't afraid of it while licking the blood of his protégé's off your fingers?"

Nikolai turned to face him and smirked.

"He knew that I was the only one at the moment who could help her."

"_It _knew? The beast knew?" the barber asked incredulously.

"There's still so much you need to learn, newbie." Nikolai smiled superiorly.

"Yeah, next time you'll tell me about talking dogs." Sweeney puffed.

"Something of the sort." Nikolai laughed. "But seriously, take care around that dog."

Sweeney threw a fugitive glance towards the pie shop.

"So, who's your little friend? You never told me about her." Nikolai had a glint in his eye.

"I did. She's the baker, my former landlady."

"Ah, yes. The best pies in London... what about her?"

"What about her?"

"Why are you making me waste my time here, Todd? What is she to you?"

"We are... were... business partners." Sweeney concluded.

"Really? I think there's more to that. You haven't answered my first question. Why are _you_ here?"

"Nikolai, just leave it. She's been through enough. I don't want to get her messed up in all this. I just came here to...to..."

Nikolai raised his eyebrows questioningly.

_Because one of my 'friends' is missing, and this is the only place where I might find it._ Of course he couldn't tell Nikolai that, so he just said:

"Because I made a promise."

"I see." Nikolai smirked. "So you won't tell her the truth?"

Sweeney shook his head. "It's better this way."

"A pity." Nikolai sighed. "It would have been interesting to meet the other Miss Harker..."

Sweeney threw him a sharp look. Nikolai shrugged his shoulders.

"Look, someone's stirring! I better take my leave then, unless..."

Sweeney nodded.

"Go. I have made my choice."

The next moment, Nikolai was gone and Sweeney was sitting in a booth inside the pie shop, the glass of gin in his hand. At first, he heard the creak of the floorboards, next he saw a frail shadow painted on the wall of the parlour.

* * *

Nellie stepped lightly, still feeling rather weak from her previous swoon. The dog was padding along beside her and she had one hand on his back. As she walked towards the pie shop, she recalled dreaming about meeting her beloved barber once again, but afterwards everything was a blur. Her mind was starting to play tricks on her. But as she entered the shop, her eyes locked on a familiar figure, sitting in a booth with a glass of gin. She slowly approached him, step by step, not believing her eyes. The barber stood up slowly, as if not to startle her.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he asked softly.

She groaned and sat down in the closest chair, her face in her hands. The barber frowned. He expected a totally different reaction. He heard a muffled 'no' and something about 'damned hallucinations', so he approached her warily.

"Mrs. Lovett, I've come back." he said, but that only seemed to deepen her grief.

The baker continued to hold her head in her hands, moaning softly to herself. She seemed to be crying. And suddenly Sweeney understood.

"Mrs. Lovett. I'm not dead." He tried to put it as elegantly as he could, sadly with no result.

"Go away!" he heard through her hands.

The barber cursed inwardly. This is going to be harder than he expected.

"Leave me alone! Why won't you just go away?" she wailed.

"Eleanor! I'm right here!" he shouted and tore her hands from her face.

She stared at him in disbelief with tearful eyes. She slowly stood up as he released her wrists. He heard a whispered "you" and "here" and she placed her trembling hands on his shoulders. He tensed at her touch but saw that his actions were closely affecting her. The barber saw at first shock, then relief and something like happiness fill her eyes as she lifted her hands and touched his face.

"Yes, I'm here." he said eyeing her warily. Her reaction had taken him completely unprepared.

She couldn't believe her eyes. He was truly there, and more beautiful than ever. As she traced her hands over his features, she noticed the soft wrinkles that he used to have had disappeared and the dark circles around his eyes were only a memory. She couldn't decide if he looked younger or just more alive than before. His hair was darker than ever, even though the white streak remained... he was perfect... A smile started to touch her lips and she lowered her hands to his shoulders again.

He noticed the light scar she still had on her cheek, a reminder of the scene that made him feel guilt for the first time in years. He noticed the dark green muffler that was wrapped tightly around her neck and then his glance trailed beyond her to the two pools of molten gold that had caught his eye. The damned dog was watching their close exchange, and it seemed to Sweeney as if it just waited for something wrong to happen so that it could finally sink its teeth into him. His attention was brought back to the woman in front of him, who had started to trail her left hand dangerously close to his heart. Sweeney quickly grabbed her wrists again and lowered her hands slowly.

"You truly are here." she whispered.

"Yes. And very much alive." he replied showing her an encouraging smile.

Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around him.

"Oh, Mr. Todd! They told me you were dead!"

She stared sobbing once more, this time out of happiness. The barber awkwardly patted her back in an attempt to calm her, but it took her several minutes to recover. When she finally let go of him, the collar of his shirt was soaked from tears. She paused for a second to look into his eyes with such happiness Sweeney had rarely seen in his life.

* * *

A few moments later, the two of them stood in a booth with two glasses of gin. The baker was glowing. The barber was impatient.

"Tell me what happened." Nellie took a sip from her glass, watching him in utter fascination.

Sweeney sighed.

"Where to start?" he mused. "As you know, we were on our way to Exeter. The very same night we left we were passing through a small forest and were ambushed. We all started fighting with our attackers, each man for himself. I remember the Judge fleeing while his men were distracting the robbers."

He paused for a moment, his hate for the Judge clouding his mind. Mrs. Lovett was hanging on his every word, her eyes never leaving him. The barber cleared his voice and continued his story.

"At one moment, I can't recall exactly when, I lost consciousness... I presume I was hit by something, but I guess I'll never know. When I woke up, I was miles away from the glade in the woods, near a road. I have no idea what happened. They did not find my body at the ambush place, so everyone thought I was dead..." he trailed off.

"And you came straight here?" she asked, fascinated by his story.

The barber's eyes lingered for a moment on the muffler fastened at her throat and subtly licked his lips.

"Not straight away. I came across an inn on my way, where I recovered thanks to its generous owners."

They spent a moment of silence.

"So, what are you going to do now?" the baker asked, partly fearing his answer.

"The first thing in the morning I will declare myself alive."

Mrs. Lovett frowned.

"Is that wise? You might have an asset this way, with everyone believing you dead..."

"No, Mrs. Lovett. I've thought this through. Judge Turpin clearly values me more or less, it won't take much time to convince him to come for a shave, a very close one... And besides, if I were to stay out of public eye, who would supply your little business?" The barber smirked at her.

Mrs. Lovett gasped.

"You're completely right! I'm sorry, it's just... been a hard week for me." she smiled at him weakly.

He nodded and looked at the clock.

"Well, it's getting quite late. If you'll excuse me, I had a long trip and I need to rest."

They stood up at the same time.

"Oh, and Mrs. Lovett? You don't happen to have found one of my razors, have you? It seems I have misplaced it..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Todd, I'm afraid I haven't."

The barber threw her a strange look, but shortly after nodded. She could feel his disappointment.

"Alright, then. Tomorrow everything shall return to normal. I must ask you though to not disturb me under any circumstances. Not even if the sailor comes with news. Am I understood?"

"Of course, love." She beamed at him.

"Have a good night then."

And with that he exited the shop. The dog looked after him but did not move from the baker's side. Nellie let out the breath she had been holding in for all this time and let herself drop on the chair once more. She was dumbfounded. She needed to pinch herself in order to realize this was not one of her dreams...

* * *

Toby retreated from the half-open door of the parlour. He had been awake since Mrs. Lovett had passed through the parlour with a strange black dog. His curiosity had urged him to take a peek and he had listened to their whole discussion. The boy had contradicting feelings about the barber's return. He was happy for his mum, but he didn't believe a word of Mr. Todd's story. He'd been doing bad things again, he was sure of it... _I will need to be extra careful from now on... _Toby thought as he slouched on the couch once again. _If he ever hurts her again, I'm not going to stand aside any more..._

* * *

All night she struggled to fall asleep, but found it quite impossible. She felt giddy with excitement after that evening. It was truly incredible what had happened... The baker had almost forgotten the dreadful events at 'The Velvet Fox'. It seemed to her all that had taken place a very long time ago. The only reminder was the sleeping dog on the threshold of her bedroom. All that mattered was that her barber was home once again... and she needed to make sure he won't leave again anytime soon.

The next morning when she woke up, it took her a moment to remember why she felt so peaceful. Everything will return to normal, he'd said. She smiled into her pillow. Only he could count murdering and baking people into pies as 'normal'.

The baker busied herself all morning by cleaning and putting everything into order. Toby was still sleeping soundly, clutching the bottle of gin. Nellie couldn't reopen the pie shop yet. She had neglected the last body she had left and the damned bloke had started rotting. It was nearly midday when she realized that the barber still hadn't descended the stairs from his shop. Hadn't he said he was going to declare himself the first thing in the morning? What if he'd forgotten? Her first thought was to go up there and see what he was doing, but then she remember that he told her precisely not to disturb him...Oh well, a little peek wouldn't hurt anybody...

Nellie slowly started to ascend the stairs. She was trying to be as silent as possible, but the bloody wooden stairs kept creaking from step to step. She reached the glass door and looked into the room, and to her surprise, found it utterly empty. After she made sure there was no one in the barbershop she opened the door and was greeted only by the doorbell. As she looked through the deserted room she noticed the bed hadn't been slept in. Where the hell was the barber? He couldn't have left before she'd awoken, could he now?

"What are you up to, Mr. T?" she muttered, her hands resting on her hips in annoyance.

* * *

_A/N: I want to thank everyone who is still reading this, everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited my story! Your reviews are my motivation 3 and I really hope to update more often than I did in the past ..._


	9. Sketched Truths

9. Sketched Truths

The clock had just struck eight in the afternoon, when the doorbell tinkled. Nellie raised her eyes from the table she was cleaning. Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop and Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlour were being prepared for reopening. That being said, the barber was nowhere in sight, the boy was off to the market and the black dog seemed to have taken to following him. The only person left at the shop to scrub and clean was, of course, the baker. A very confused and annoyed baker.

Back to the present, on the doorstep stood a woman much like the baker herself. The only difference was the thick, lustrous black hair and some small features. The woman was clad all in black, sporting a shabby black hooded cloak as well.

"Nellie!" she screamed before the baker even had time to look at her properly and flung herself at the surprised woman. "Good Lord, I've been so worried about you!"

"Tis nice to see you too, Meryl" Nellie managed to say, under her sister's choking hug. "Cup of tea?"

Her sister let go of her and looked her dead in the eye.

"Alright, gin it is then!"

A few minutes later, the two sisters were seated at a coffee table in Nellie's parlour over a glass of gin.

"I take it you know that I was looking for you?" the baker asked.

The black haired woman sighed. She did not seem as cheery as she had been a couple of minutes ago.

"They told me. The people at the bar." her voice was also very similar to Nellie's, but it sounded a tad huskier. "They obviously didn't know who you were, but they kind of figured it out..." she trailed off. "I also know that you've been at my old house. Bloody Hell, you're lucky nothing happened to you at the Fox..."

Nellie raised her eyebrows.

"Nothing happened?" she asked her sister, throwing her an incredulous stare. "Huh, whoever told you about me has probably let a few insignificant details slip by..."

Upon hearing about what sister had been put through, Meryl was utterly revolted.

"The bastards! They figured out that you must be related to me somehow, yet still they couldn't have cared less and tried to..." She paused for a second and closed her eyes. "I shudder to think what could have happened."

The two women stood silently for a moment, sipping their gin.

"Anyway" Nellie cleared her voice. "Something terrible happened, that's why I wanted to talk to you. Do you remember when I told you about my new tenant?"

"How could I forget? The tall, dark haired, beautiful man who turned on your doorstep?" Meryl chuckled.

"Well, about a week ago he went on a trip with Judge Turpin as his personal barber. They were attacked on the road and a few days later I received a letter telling me of Mr. Todd's death. That's why I initially searched for you..." She closed her eyes, shaking her head lightly. Her sister stood silent. "So I looked for you at your old house and at The Velvet Fox, but you know the story... well, guess who turned up on my doorstep last night?"

"Ralph?"

"No, even though he should have arrived yesterday as well." Nellie frowned upon remembering the telegram her brother had sent her.

"But of course, it must have been Todd!"

"Yes! They could not find his body so they declared him dead, but he managed to escape! I was so shocked I even fainted! Can you imagine that?"

"Whoa, you've almost been through more things than I did, little sister! Almost." Meryl laughed as she poured herself more gin, and Nellie could sense that her sister seemed genuinely impressed.

"So Ralph is going to come here soon, I understand?" Meryl's bitter smile confirmed that she wasn't looking forward to seeing her brother. Nellie nodded quickly. She had to ask her now... now, before Ralph would arrive...

"Meryl, I need to ask you something."

"Anything, deary." Meryl smiled before taking another sip from her glass.

"I woke up one morning with these..." The baker unwrapped the shawl that was around her neck, revealing the two pricks that were almost healed. "Do you possibly know what these are? Meryl? Is something wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

Her sister's troubled expression had changed to one of alarm in just a matter of seconds.

"I'm alright. Please, do continue. What else?"

"Funny thing is I can't remember a thing from that night. All I know is that when I woke up I was wearing a different night gown, I was feeling very weak and there was a spot of blood on my lips. And I almost fainted twice that day. Are you quite sure you're alright?" The baker frowned at Meryl, who had settled her glass on the table and had started to bite her nails.

"Yes, dear sister. Please tell me everything." But her sister's face was getting grimmer and grimmer with each detail she gave her.

"The weirdest thing is that I found my night gown all bloody floating down in the sewers."

Meryl gasped loudly. Nellie barely made out the quiet "no" that escaped her lips.

"Well? What is it then? Speak up!"

"Do you…" Meryl took a deep breath and seemed to recover. She cleared her voice and finished her question. "How to put this... do you remember that book I made you read when you were sixteen?"

"Oh, cut to the chase, Meryl! Of course I can't bloody remember..."

"T'was called 'The Vampyre' by John William Polidori."

"Oh, that one! I can barely remember what it was about... something sinister without a doubt."

Meryl rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes, but you do remember the vampire?"

"Yes, I know what a vampire is, if that's what you're asking me..."

"Good." Meryl nodded to herself and gulped.

"Well? What about them?"

"Well... they're real." Meryl shrugged her shoulders. "Simple as that."

Nellie looked at her as if she was mad.

"What?"

"I'm so sorry, Nellie, I never wanted you to know about this but I can't just let you wander in the dark when one of them has obviously crossed your threshold-"

"What on Earth are you blabbing about, Meryl?"

Meryl took a deep breath.

"The vampires, the children of the night. They are real, not just a fable. A vampire has entered your house and has bitten you. Fed on you. Then he glamoured you so you couldn't remember anything. He must have made a mess and that's why he changed your nightgown so he could erase all the traces. And that is also why you felt so weak and tired the next day, from the loss of blood... Believe me, I speak from experience." she finished, taking a deep breath.

Nellie groaned, resting her forehead against her palm.

"Oh please, Meryl, don't make fun of me! I didn't seek your advice so you could mock me! What's with this nonsense?"

"I'm not joking, Nellie!"

Meryl sounded exasperated. The baker rolled her eyes.

"Look, forget that I ever mentioned it." said Nellie as she stood up with her glass. "I don't know why I even bothered, you never take me seriously when I have a problem and-"

"For Christ's sake, Nellie! Look!" Meryl said desperately and ripped her own black shawl from her throat, revealing a gruesome collection of scars of all forms and sizes on her neck. Nellie dropped her glass, which shattered upon hitting the floor, covered her mouth with one hand and gasped, horrified and at a total loss for words.

"There's so much I need to tell you now, that I couldn't before..." Her sister seemed very troubled. The baker sat back down in her chair, and Meryl squeezed one of her hands. After taking another sip from her glass, she started. "Remember that beautiful chap I was seeing nearly eighteen years ago? Ralph forbade me from seeing him, and with good reason. He had known about them long before I did. That man preyed on my innocence and took me to darker places than most people get to. He introduced me to this underworld, to this mesmerising world of pleasant things in the middle of grimy London. And the worst part of it all was that I liked it. Ralph had seen the bite marks on my neck and tried his best to warn me, but of course I didn't listen... And after that man came another and another and another." Meryl kept her eyes on the burning fire in the fireplace as she told the baker all the things she had been keeping away from her. "I never sold myself for money, Nellie, I was too proud for such a thing... They did not pay me in money, but in…blood. Their blood has fantastic properties... it can heal wounds faster and it can also make you feel better, stronger, look better... younger."

Nellie gasped. Her sister must have been telling the truth, it all made sense... now that she mentioned it, she could see that Meryl, who was three years older than her, actually looked younger. She didn't have one wrinkle on her face and all the hardships of life have left not even one mark on her... Meryl looked as lovely and fresh as ever, as she turned to look at her sister.

"Ralph made me swear that I would never tell you about all this, that I wouldn't lead you on the same wretched path, as he called it. But now I have to speak, because these marks on your neck are definitely vampire bites and it all connects!"

The sisters stood in silence for a moment, one digesting what she had just found out, the other feeling that a weight had been lifted off her chest.

"You give me terrible news, sister... tell me, will the marks turn to scars like yours?" The baker asked worriedly.

Her sister let go of her hand. "I'm telling you that your life might be endangered and your biggest worry is some little scars?"

"Not my biggest, no, but one of them. You probably noticed I have another one of those beauty marks on my cheek."

Her sister's smile faltered. "I have since I have arrived here and I'm dying to know what happened, but we must solve this before it's too late. And no, you won't have any scars. What you have seen on my neck is the result of...cruel acts. Now, before I start, you must understand you mustn't tell a word of this to Ralph. He would blame me for what has happened to you... and as much as we know, it could actually be my fault more or less. But he would go mad if he found out that you have been dragged the same way I have on this path."

"You know I won't tell a soul, Meryl."

The older sister nodded.

"The thing is vampires can only cross the threshold of a home at a great cost of power. I believe you have a strong threshold, since you have lived here with your husband and that Barker lad with his family upstairs and now you've got this boy you say you care very much about..."

Nellie nodded, a little surprised that Meryl still had memories of Benjamin Barker.

"Only very powerful vampires could cross the threshold and still walk, more so glamour you after feeding. My guess is that the person we're looking for is someone who has access to your home, who has been invited in before."

Nellie frowned. She didn't have anyone close besides Toby, Mr. Todd, her brother and sister...

"Think about it! Is there anyone you have invited in your house over the past few weeks?"

Nellie shook her head. "Oh, I can't remember! I had lots of customers... but they don't usually ask to come inside, they just enter, this is a pie shop after all..."

They stood a moment in silence, thinking, thinking, thinking... and a dark idea sparkled.

"It could be the beggar woman." Nellie said slowly.

"What beggar woman?"

"You know, Meryl. Barker's wife. She used to live here..."

"Ah, the mad one. I don't think it's her. You've seen her in daylight lately, haven't you?"

Nellie nodded.

"What about... that chap who rented the shop above?"

"What? You couldn't think that... Mr. Todd? A vampire? Nonsense!" Nellie shook her head in disbelief.

"Calm down, I did not say it was him! I just think it could be... after all, he has your permission to live here and so he wouldn't need an invitation."

"It can't be him." Nellie said firmly. "He showed up five days after I was bitten."

Meryl pursed her lips.

"You should make certain that he isn't the one, though."

The baker sighed.

"Alright, I'll do it, but I'm telling you, he can't be a…vampire." The new word rolled strangely off her tongue.

"Have you seen him in daylight since he has returned?" Meryl asked directly.

"No. He has specifically asked me to not disturb him at any costs, actually."

"Did he eat anything? Drink? Did he look different in any way?"

Nellie gasped, remembering some details from the previous night.

"He looked... better. Healthier. I daresay younger..."

"You should test him, Nellie."

The baker nodded, but fear started to nestle in her heart, little by little.

"But how?"

Meryl bit her inner cheek in thought.

"You could cut yourself in his presence, you know, when you're cooking or something. Just a small cut, it will be enough. Watch him closely."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"Of course, you could also-"

Meryl was cut sharply when the front door banged open, the doorbell making a startling noise. Both sisters jumped to their feet while hastily wrapping their shawls around their necks again.

"Not one word, Nellie!" Meryl managed to whisper through her teeth before they quickly made their way to the pie shop, only to find a tall, familiar man dressed in a longcoat, with two suitcases thrown over his shoulders. As soon as he saw the baker, he let those suitcases fall to the floor with a thump.

"Eleanor!" he roared as he pulled her into a fierce hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "My sweet sister!"

"It's been too long, brother." the baker smiled after he released her. Ralph hadn't changed one bit. His long, wavy brown hair barely reached his shoulders and his striking dark blue eyes were warm as he looked at his younger sister.

"Too long indeed." he agreed, and only then noticed the dark figure with her long eyelashes and heavily hooded eyes, standing in the doorway to the parlour. His other sister seemed to mock him silently, smiling as she leaned against the wall, the half empty glass of gin in her hand, resting against her cheek.

Once again Nellie was playing the annoying role of the mediator. She cleared her voice.

"Well..." She could feel some kind of tension building up between her brother and sister, but all her fears dissipated when Ralph shook his head and said:

"You haven't changed a bit, little devil."

A small smile touched his mouth as he strode towards Meryl and hugged her too.

"It's good to have you back here, brother." She raised one hand and tugged on his moustache, making him push her away, slightly annoyed. Nellie couldn't suppress a little giggle, knowing how much he cared about his moustache.

"Well, could I have anything to drink? Seeing that you two have already started..." he said with an air of casual elegance as he eased himself in a booth. Meryl sat opposite him and Nellie grabbed another bottle of gin from one of the cupboards.

"So, girls, anything interesting has happened since I left?" Ralph asked as Nellie filled the three glasses with the alcoholic beverage.

"Not much, really." Meryl shook her head.

"Nothing here as well." Nellie sat down near her brother. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing at all?" he asked again. There was an awkward silence.

"Well, if it interests you, I get paid double now. And I have a proper job." Meryl interfered, a wicked smile on her face.

"I know, I've seen the posters..." her brother sighed. "It still isn't what I call a proper job." He took a sip from his glass. "But anyway... Nellie, do you still have that room upstairs? I haven't managed to find a place to stay for the night, with my delay..."

The baker cleared her voice and took a deep mental breath.

"Actually, there is something I have to tell you. I, uh... found another tenant, who is using that room at the moment. I also hired a boy to help me around the shop. And we also have a dog at the moment. But I suppose I could make some space for you."

Ralph gaped at her.

"That doesn't sound like nothing at all to me. Well, where are they then?"

"The boy's out doing some shopping, the dog went with him and my tenant... I don't know actually. He went outside as well..."

She had barely finished her sentence, when the doorbell tinkled. Three heads whipped around simultaneously to look at the door. Sweeney Todd seemed at least as surprised as them by the way he glanced around. Nellie quickly jumped from her seat.

"Ralph, Meryl... this is Mr. Todd, the new tenant I've told you about."

Her brother and sister sat up as Sweeney seemed to better grasp the situation.

"Mr. Todd, these are my brother and sister."

Meryl advanced towards him and boldly extended her hand, palm down.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Todd."

Sweeney threw Nellie a furtive glance, before taking her sister's hand with his own and barely touching it with his lips.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss...?"

"Harker." She threw him a wicked smile before stepping back and making room for her brother.

It was Sweeney's turn to extend his hand and Ralph's to shake it.

"I hope you find the accommodations to your liking, Mr. Todd."

"That I do, Mr. Harker."

Nellie noticed the cold politeness in the barber's smile, who was definitely not pleased by the company.

"Tell me, haven't we met before, by any chance?" Ralph asked him, and suddenly Nellie realized that he had the same cold smile plastered on his face.

"I'm afraid not. I always remember one's face, and yours is utterly foreign to me."

The baker was getting alarmed as she could sense something wasn't right at all. Could her brother recognise Benjamin Barker, when her sister did not?

"Do you mind if I have a word with you, Mr. Todd? Outside?"

"Not at all, Mr. Harker." Sweeney stole one more glance to Nellie, who was silently begging him to not do anything foolish, to not harm her overprotective brother no matter what he said... And then they were outside, and she could do nothing more.

As soon as the door closed behind them, all smiles were gone from the men's faces.

"I know what you are, Barker."


End file.
